


Life in the Shadow of Death

by ByTheAngell (SomeLittleInfamy)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection, themes of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 00:45:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17797865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLittleInfamy/pseuds/ByTheAngell
Summary: Jace is no stranger to death. No matter how far he tries to run from it, death seems to be the common thread throughout his many years, identities, and attempts to start anew...





	Life in the Shadow of Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution for the Shadowhunters 3B Countdown Calendar, which is releasing a fic by a different author every day in February until the premier! Make sure to check out the other works in this collection, as well as the ones yet to be posted! <3

Jonathan Christopher should have known that Death, along with the destruction and loss it brought, would follow him no matter where he went, no matter what he did.

He wasn’t even properly alive when Death first appeared to him, taking the life of the woman carrying him in her womb. No one could have predicted that Celine’s death would be the first of many Jonathan would come to blame on himself.

It followed him as Jonathan Wayland, when his desire to care for something, to love it and be loved in return, brought about the death of his beloved falcon, and it didn’t stop straight through the death of the man he believed to be his father as the result of what he thought was a Circle uprising. Real or not, the loss he perceived and the weight he took on seeking vengeance and retaliation would shape the most formative years of his life.

It followed him as Jonathan Lightwood, but this time it was channeled. This time it had purpose. His life was surrounded by death because he brought it   _intentionally_ , honing his skills, fighting his way through demon after demon… but it didn’t stop there. He wouldn’t allow it to, because that wasn’t enough. For every rogue downworlder the Praetor couldn’t handle efficiently, Jace was there - vampire after vampire, werewolf after werewolf, if there was a rogue creature to hunt he was on it. He was _good_ at it. After so many years of resenting the death his very existence drew towards him whether he wanted it or not, he found the easiest way to control it was to always want it. To welcome it. To seek it out before it could find him first.

It didn’t stop when he was Jonathan Morgenstern. How could it, when of all the Jaces he’d been so far, this was the one that made the most sense. The one that explained every dark thought that pushed through his best defenses, every voice that told him he was born to be a killer. Would Maryse and Robert have praised his skills had they known where they came from? The answer was no, because the moment he stepped through that portal they realized the true threat that was Jonathan Morgenstern - because there was now a chance that destructive force was no longer on their side, but turning against them.

It’s easy to love a killer when you’re the one they’re killing for.

When he reached for the soul sword it was with every intention of meeting Death once and for all, to sacrifice himself for the sake of a world that deserved better than the carnage that followed him at every turn. What he received in instead was the loss of the very lives he intended to save. He hadn’t known, he _couldn’t_ have known… but that hardly mattered. Valentine’s victory that day was brought about by Jace’s selfish desire to go out in a blaze of glory, by his need to prove himself once and for all. All he proved was that he couldn’t escape the fate that was always meant for him.

Death followed him, right up until the moment he drew what should have been his last breath. And when it could no longer call upon him to do its bidding it moved on to Clarissa, driving a blade through Valentine’s chest.

And then it brought him back, because it was not done with him yet.

Jonathan Herondale wanted it to stop more than ever before. He’d never truly wanted it in the first place. He made the best of it. At times he embraced it, accepting it because fighting it 24/7 was simply too exhausting for any one person to endure. But now he had someone who refused to give up on him… someone he couldn’t write off as a familial obligation, because of course he knew Izzy and Alec cared. They loved him more than he could possibly deserve, but he could convince himself it was because they had to. They were family after all, even if not by blood. But Clary?

Clary could leave him at any moment. And she should have, time and time again. Instead she held him close and supported every decision he made, even if she didn’t fully agree with it or even understand it. She loved him despite him doing everything wrong he possibly could along the way. She killed her father for him, and though if any man deserved it it was Valentine, that was still not a weight he would’ve wished upon her, or anyone else. He wanted to be different, to be better, for her. For _them_.

But Death had other plans, so much worse than anything that came before.

He knew, on some level, that he wasn’t entirely responsible for the lives lost at his hand while he was possessed. It was the demon, it was Lilith’s influence, it was nothing he _ever_ would’ve done on his own. Imogen… his own grandmother, the last living flesh and blood he had… her blood was on his hands, but it wasn’t his _fault_. He knew that, and so did the people around him. But he couldn't erase the guilt because he and Death knew one another intimately by now; if he was a stronger person he would make himself one with death and remain the way he was meant to at Lake Lyn. He thought Alec might be strong enough, and for a moment he almost was. But the love that Alec and Izzy and everyone else foolish enough to care for him felt convinced them he was worth saving, no matter how much he pleaded otherwise. Their love for him won out. It always did.

And it was always wrong.

They saved him, and in return he brought more death. Clary was gone, the love of his life torn away not just from him but from all the lives she touched. And Magnus… Magnus’ death may not have been an immediate result, but it’s happening, slowly but surely. It’s evident with the first gray hair that stained his black mohawk, a streak that came through right at the front. It’s evident in the first time Magnus caught a cold that turned into the flu, and Alec took  a week off from the Institute to stay home and take care of him. Magnus was dying, and that death will be Jace’s fault, just like every other death in his life since the day he was born.

It was easier when he stopped fighting it. It was simpler when he pretended he wanted it there, that he didn’t mind it’s presence. Things were less complicated when he could count the number of people who cared about him on four fingers, and even two of those were suspect. He brought enough death upon himself, he didn’t want anyone else in the line of fire for his sake.

He doesn’t think he’ll have to worry about that for much longer. It may be too late for all that’s come to pass, but now?

How anyone could continue to love him after this, he doesn’t know. Everything Alec and Magnus sacrificed, they did it for him, and they must regret it now that they’re living out the consequences. Isabelle and Simon feel the loss of Clary so deeply he can tell that they relive the pain of her death every time they look at him - every time they remember it’s his fault she was ever in that position. Maryse isn’t around the Institute often and Robert is in Idris, something he’s infinitely grateful for because he doesn’t think he can handle their looks of disappointment on top of everything else.

He wishes he were stronger… that he could end the suffering he caused around him once and for all. But he isn’t. He can’t, because despite the fact that he cannot begin to fathom how, or why, the fact remains: there are people who still care. People who wouldn’t understand that the pain he’d be sparing in the long run would more than make up for any temporary anguish. So he stays, for them, even knowing that no matter how far he runs and many times his name may change, Death will always find him again.

He’ll try his best to right the wrongs committed by his hand and by his influence, and he’ll will Death to stay away, because hasn’t he given it enough? What more could it possibly want from him?

As much dread as the question brings him, he fears the inevitable answer will be worse.

**Author's Note:**

> (Find me on [Tumblr](http://bytheangell.tumblr.com) and also on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/By_The_Angell) while we all hang out waiting for someone to #SaveShadowhunters ! <3)


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